


the third circle

by miaomaomei



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Dreams, Dreamsharing, M/M, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 14:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30056802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miaomaomei/pseuds/miaomaomei
Summary: The budding relationship between Edmond Dantes and Amakusa Shirou Tokisada, told through shared dreams and hells.
Relationships: Amakusa Shirou Tokisada | Ruler/Edmond Dantès | Avenger
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	the third circle

**Author's Note:**

> Blink-and-you-miss spoiler for Chaldea Boys Collection 2021.
> 
> I will admit right here and right now that I didn't play the Prison Tower event when it came out, nor do I have Dantes. My only exposure to Dantes is in the main story and in events such as ServaFes. As such, I do not have a firm grasp of his character or speech pattern (in English). I've read through his materials and whatnot, but it's not the same as playing through it, in my opinion.

Edmond scowls up at the red sky of the dreamscape. The air is stained dark red from smoke and fire, and when he looks down at the ground, it's no better. The dirt has soaked up enough blood that it's essentially mud and every step that Edmond takes, he can feel his feet sink into the soil ever so slightly.

No matter how much time passes, the battlefield of Shimabara is as fresh as that fateful day in 1638.

Like he suspected, the culprit for this disgusting mindscape sits in the middle of the field. In an area this wide, it's impossible to know just where the "middle" is, but dreams are a curious thing, with a set beginning and end. In that sense, it's kinder than reality is.

"Don't drag others into your own masochistic interests," Edmond says.

"Ah, Avenger. How strange. I don't recall inviting you in here," Amakusa says, turning to stare up at him.

As Edmond draws closer, he recognizes the thing in Amakusa's lap as a head. Blood stains Amakusa's hakama black and the unfamiliar face is twisted in an ugly expression of pained fear. Though the skin is sallow and drawn — obviously not fresh — the open wound in the neck continues to flow like a river, pooling around Amakusa like he's drowning in it.

"Who is that?" Edmond asks, gesturing with a quick jerk of his chin at the disembodied head.

Amakusa shakes his head. His hair, usually as soft as silky, is so clumped with dried blood that it hardly moves with his action.

"I don't remember."

He strokes one finger down the cheek, tracing the loose muscles. The action is tender, like Amakusa is caressing his lover, and Edmond clicks his tongue.

This isn't the first time that Edmond has wandered onto the plains of Shimabara. Servants don't dream. Whatever their mind projects to them during their rest cycle is nothing more than a memory from the past. An unchangeable illusion.

Once, he found Amakusa clinging onto a full body, in the midst of a prayer for the forgotten soul. Another time, he found Amakusa leaning against a katana stuck in the ground, staring up at the smog as if he was waiting for a revelation. Yet another time, he found Amakusa doing nothing at all, standing amidst a pile of corpses while looking out at the horizon.

There's never anyone around.

Their Master once mentioned to Edmond that she also wandered into Amakusa's dream once. That Amakusa told her that he prefers the solitude because it means he's the only person who has to stay in the hell that is Shimabara.

The self-sacrificing schtick that Amakusa and Jeanne and any other saint pulls is tiresome. Disgusting. That they honestly believe anyone other than their own ego can be saved proves they know nothing about true salvation.

He crouches down in front of Amakusa, uncaring of how the bloody soil dirty his clothing. It's not like this place is real anyway.

"I doubt there is anything here to hold your interest," Amakusa says.

_Get out_. He doesn't say it with his words but the rejection in his eyes is loud and clear.

Edmond scoffs at him and Amakusa merely smiles back, like an overly patient parent dealing with a huffy kid. If Edmond were a lesser person, his pride might be hurt at the thought that, between himself and Amakusa, he's the one thought of as "the kid."

"And just what do you know about me?" Edmond says. And then, to soften his tone a little, he adds, "And it's not as if there's _nothing_ here."

He doesn't think Amakusa is an idiot but Amakusa can be a little bit slow on the uptake when things involve him. Or, at the very least, he does a great job of putting on a front of being slow.

Like now, for instance, when his response is giving Edmond a gobsmacked expression — which, in his case, simply means that his eyes are a little wider than usual — and then looking around them.

"Idiocy doesn't suit you."

"I apologize if I offended you."

Edmond rolls his eyes. The kid metaphor is a lot more apt than he originally thought. He's like a student saying whatever he thinks will stop the teacher's scolding. Everything Edmond says to him goes in one ear and out the other. It's not usually this bad but it seems the poor environment is a detriment to both Amakusa's health and his senses.

"Your greed suits you better," Edmond says.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cigarette case. He taps one out, places it into his mouth, and lights it with a flicker of flames from his fingertip. Amakusa watches in bemused silence. But his smile melts away into blatant surprise when, after taking a single puff, Edmond takes the lit cigarette and presses it firmly against the bleeding wound of the head in Amakusa's lap.

"Avenger!" Amakusa exclaims, and he hides the head behind his back. He lowers his body slightly in a protective stance, like he's prepared to leap up and head-butt Edmond unconscious for the slight. "How could you?"

"How could I what?"

"Desecrating the corpse of my comrade is something I never would have expected from someone like yourself," Amakusa says, and he has the gall to sound legitimately and personally offended.

As if said comrade, whose name Amakusa can't even remember, was a close friend of his or something.

Well, pressing the lit end of a cigarette against a dead body would normally count as mutilating a corpse, if Amakusa and Edmond were bound by human laws. Granted, 'body' may be pushing it a little in this case.

"You honestly think I would do something so meaningless?" Edmond snorts.

The answer is no, of course. Or so Edmond thought. But Amakusa's unimpressed expression tells another tale.

Just what kind of person does Amakusa think he is? They've been at Chaldea together for months at this point — he thinks anyway, considering the passage of time has been impossible to tell ever since 2016 — and Amakusa still doesn't understand Edmond?

It would be a shock if Edmond sincerely cared about Amakusa's opinion.

The stench of burning flesh is indistinguishable from the sharp reek of destruction and misery overlaying the battlefield, but Amakusa must have felt something amiss from where his fingers are clutching the head. He holds it out in front of him and before the two Servants' eyes, the blood that had been pouring out from the wound splutters weakly before stopping.

"You can sit around and wallow in your self-pity for the rest of time if that's what you want, but don't drag me into it," Edmond says, pushing himself to his feet. "You want to change this reality, don't you? You want to change the kind of world that would cause this hell to happen, right?"

It's a little embarrassing, to be honest, acting as some sort of motivational speaker for Amakusa of all people.

Amakusa who isn't even looking up at Edmond anymore. He's staring into the head's stricken and twisted expression, like he's listening to some unheard forgiveness. Knowing him, it's probably closer to unheard accusations.

Edmond sighs and stares up at the sky. The smog has parted and he can see the sky beyond it. Like everything else in Shimabara, it's a deep red. Considering that Edmond's dreams centre around the dungeons of Château d'If, he has no room to talk, but Shimabara is truly a depressing place. The thought of what happened here and why tickle at the flickering flames of an Avenger's fury, but there's no point in him getting mad.

If Amakusa, who was directly involved in Shimabara, is hiding his own madness and anger behind his usual calm mask, then Edmond has no right to express his own thoughts on the matter.

"Like I said, Avenger, you came here of your own will," Amakusa says, finally tearing his eyes away from the head. He places it onto the ground next to him and brushes its eyes closed. With the mouth wide open, it doesn't look like it's sleeping or at peace. "I apologize if the view at Shimabara is not to your taste."

"It's a hellish landscape," Edmond agrees. "It's exactly the kind of place I willingly spend my time in."

If Amakusa is insulted, he doesn't show it.

The smog is dissipating at a faster rate. The half-moon shines down on them, illuminating the battlefield. Amakusa follows Edmond's vision and sighs.

"It's not very romantic, is it? I can't say that I'm particularly bothered by it, but If I have to stare at a moon for the rest of my existence, then I would prefer a full one."

"Maybe when you get the Grail, you can wish for that."

"Yes, perhaps. Hara Castle is quite beautiful under the moonlight, you know. I would very much enjoy watching the full moon from one of its balconies while my comrades sing and drink on the grounds below."

Edmond feels a vague shift in the dream. It must be close to morning in Chaldea. Or as close to morning as it is in a world that has been wiped clean. He doesn't say goodbye to Amakusa, nor does he inform him of his departure. He simply allows himself to step out of Amakusa's consciousness, as easy and silent as when he entered.

The last thing he sees is Amakusa and the head next to him, the both of them staring up at the half-moon in companionable silence.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/miaomaomei) or [Tumblr](http://surelynotshirley.tumblr.com).


End file.
